Q: Who am I? Am I alone? A: You are never alone
by KingKazu
Summary: Story about a girl who is going through some rough times... Contains suggested kidnapping, psychology, mind games, violence, church involvement ? , amongst other things...dunno twas inspired to write this. If i should write more: tell me so or vice vers
1. Chapter 1

Personified

Chapter 1: Genesis

Q: Who am I?

Am I alone?

A: You are never alone.

Blinding white…enveloping...lifting upwards…eyes opening. We have function.

_I can't see clearly._

White shapes drifted around her in agitation, shuffling this way, that way, flitting past each other. The murmurs and whispers of wind coming out of them quickly dispersing into the atmospheric quiet.

_Where am I?_

_Why am I here? _

She tried shaking her head to clear it up. Her muscles responded sluggishly, like dragging her feet through mud. _Drugged?_ _Put under with anesthesia? Chloroform? _Her mind was blank. She couldn't remember anything from before. None of this makes any sense…

Her eyesight was getting better. She could make out the ceiling: the arched stone buttresses that extended for what seemed forever implied a gothic cathedral. Her eyes swept slowly around, noting the stained glass windows depicting religious events, massive stone statues of saints and angels, etched scripture, and the cross. _Since when did they have beds in the middle of a cathedral?_

She tried to speak. _Why am I here? What is going on?_ Her mouth was shaping words that would not come. Her throat felt odd when she tried to form words. Tingly. Not pleasant. She tried to move, to get up. Thick leather straps arrested any such notion.

She took stock of her situation, trying not to be afraid.

Cotton sheets, strapped to a bed with her head facing the ceiling. Pressure on the back of the neck…hair, damp, matted. Matted with what? _Can't tell._

The white shapes had become men and women in lab coats, and one had stopped and was standing over her, watching. Intently…too intently. Like she was some form of…of… test subject…for what…and why the restraints? _No, damnit! Why can't I remember anything? Why!_

Her eyes abruptly widened in shock. _I'm being experimented on! What did they do to me!" _Sheer, semi-irrational terror swamped her entire system, dumping massive amounts of adrenaline into her circulatory system. _I've got to be free! Got to get free! What have you done to me! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!_

_A weapon….give me a weapon…something, something. Scalpel, knife, scissors, anything…._

The man saw the horror in her now vastly dilated eyes as realization dawned on her, and knew he had made a grave mistake. It was too early for her to find out. Not enough time for the implants…they needed more time! So tragic under the circumstances…but orders were orders. He slipped a small surgical knife underneath the sheet covering her, pressing it into her flailing palm. He felt her stop and grasp the handle as if she could snap it in half. He reached in and held her face between his gloved hands. Their eyes met. _Yes._ He thought. _See who is helping you. Know your friends, child._

With that he left, exiting the chamber at a brisk walk. Getting as far away as possible before…

A knife. A lovely, lovely little knife. Sharp too. _That man heard my cries, and came to help me. Bless him._ She slashed through the thick leather binding her arm in seconds, adrenaline or something else giving her strength she never knew she possessed. The white-coats had noticed, were rushing her, intending to get her down on the table again. _To do more experiments on me? NO. _She saw a hand get too close, clenched her eyes shut, and lashed out. The hand came off in an explosive ring of blood, leaving the man to cradle the pulsing stump. Utterly shocked, she stared the stump. _Don't think, just act._ With a mental shake, she yanked on the weakened strap holding her right hand. It came free. _Halfway there…_

She started to free her head next. The scientists had backed off out of range in self-preservation. The smell of the man's blood was making her gag and his muffled screams of pain weren't helping either. Her head was free. She tried to sit up, and got violently jerked back. Surprised, she twisted her head around and found she was connected by a mass of tubing leading from the back of her neck into a machine. She tried to utter a cry of complete horror and disgust, and failed. The tingling sensation came back to her throat. She slashed the cords, watching the fluids they contained spill onto the pillow her head was resting on. _Drugs. Disgusting pigs._ She attacked the bindings holding her legs. The scientists, realizing what she would do to them if she was _free_, all rushed her at once, desperate to stop her.

Panic, sheer panic was the feeling in that cathedral. Months of work, and she was about to kill them for it. Sleepless nights, stress filled days. The knowledge that failure meant certain death. All combined to create this now emaciated girl with dangerous reprogramming who was trying to free herself with a knife. She must not get free…_she must not get free…_

Too late.

_I'm free! I am fr-_

A scientist grabbed her left arm, and was twisting…breaking…forcing the knife away from him…

She winced and tried to cry out. Her arm was going to break any second now…she was too weak…

She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable rush of people to bind her to her bed again. This was it. She was done.

Muscles twitched. Her hand flipped something over to the other hand…a sharp thrusting motion…gurgling screams…the crushing force against her arm gone in a flash…she opened her eyes…

…And…was puzzled.

Her bony little hand was buried halfway into the man's neck. Blood warm as honey was running in small rivulets down her arm, staining her shirt. The knife had gone all the way through, and now the man was barely standing, trembling and pawing limply at his ruined neck. Numbly, she withdrew her hand, still holding the now red knife. Blood exploded from the gaping hole in a crimson fountain, spraying her with sticky wetness. The man drifted to the floor.

She stared at the knife in blank puzzlement.

_Wha_…_Why?… What did I do?…_

She looked up. _Crap._

Surrounded by nervous scientists who had just watched in horror as their colleague got a knife and half a fist shoved through his neck. Needless to say they were hesitant to follow him.

It's alright though. Fear is understandable.

Scant seconds later, she slumped back onto the bed, observing the limp mass of bodies surrounding her in a small lake of congealing blood. It was almost beautiful. Picturesque. Worthy of the artist's brush. She was like a princess trapped on an island, waiting for her handsome prince to cross the lake and rescue her…how sick…oh how sick…

She wanted to collapse. Wanted to collapse and cry and feel some sort of sadness or remorse for what she had just _done. _She couldn't. She had _killed people_, and she didn't feel any of these things. Her brain was somehow wired differently. She had never wielded a blade of any kind, nor knew where to strike a person to _kill_ them.

But her muscles knew.

It had been as easy as breathing. As natural as a heartbeat, a sigh, a friendly smile to a friend. And it terrified her.

She put the knife down and ran her bloody hands forcefully through her damp, sweaty hair, creating red streaks that contrasted sharply with the pale blond, trying to make sense of it all…

She shook her head. _No point in trying…doesn't make any sense…no sense…._

Looking beyond the surrounding butchery, she saw that the massive doors leading out of the cathedral were open. Allowing a tiny slit of light to illuminate a strip of the now iced over lake.

_Wow. Blood hardens fast._

Still looking around, she also noticed a door behind the altar leading into the interior of the cathedral. Answers lay that way, and she knew it.

_So either I walk out of here, free and not know what they did to me, or I walk deeper into this place and look for answers…_

…Not much of a choice really.

She got up, tried to hop off the bed. But her legs wouldn't support her, and she toppled into the lake.

_How long had I been lying there, wasting away? Or am I still in shock?…_

She didn't want to think about it. Or the blood now covering almost all of her body. The metallic tang of it was overwhelming. So much…so strong…

Her hand moved to get into position to push herself up, and hit something away from her. She stopped, curious. Feeling slowly underneath the surface, she found it again, grabbed it, and lifted it out.

_A knife? Which of them had a knife?_

She wiped off the worst of the blood onto the few white areas of her bed she could find, then wiped herself off as best she could.

_One knife is nice, two is nicer._

She got up, using the bed as a support, and took her first few tentative steps towards the altar, gaining back the use of her legs more and more with each step. _Odd, _she thought, glancing down at her feet, _when I was fighting, I was nowhere near this weak…_

She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide. Her feet had slowly carried her to the altar. _Drawn to God…_

She stood in front of it. There above, set in polished oak and painted iron, was Jesus crucified to the cross. A beam sunlight flooded in from windows set high up in the walls, illuminating the altar in a corona of light. Dust motes floated lazily in the beams, content.

The scene was soothing, tranquil. The girl stopped, trying to breathe in deep, calming breaths that came out as ragged, trembling ones.

_Father._

_Son._

_Holy Ghost._

_Help me please…_

As she was just about to enter the small door beneath the cross to find answers, she stopped just long enough to ask the age old question to the one man she felt would truly understand.

_Why me?_

Opening the door took more effort than she first thought. Panting quietly, she slowly made her way down the comparatively claustrophobic hallway. Fluorescent ceiling lights cast their harsh, efficient beams onto surroundings most normal people would find completely alien inside a traditional cathedral. Whitewashed walls, curtained windows and metal doors safely locked by keypads lent the atmosphere a hospital tinge, making her skin crawl. _This isn't normal…this is definitely __**abnormal.**_

But it wasn't the visual awkwardness that worried her so much as the silence. Normally hospitals always have background noise. Patients, visitors and staff all going about their business in the halls while humming machinery either entertains or prolongs the lives of those fortunate...or unfortunate, enough to be receiving care. Here however, her quiet footsteps were allowed to echo softly back at her, perfectly mirrored in the otherwise absolute, ominous silence.

She sped up, not wanting to be here anymore. All of this was setting her on edge, and she could feel her heart thumping louder and louder, threatening to drown out the sounds of her agitated feet. _Why is it so quiet? Someone has to be around here __**somewhere**__…_

Looking ahead, she spotted a large pair of double doors, arching away into the twelve foot ceiling. She sprinted down the hallway, now desperate to escape. Upon reaching the doors, she had to stop and grasp onto the vertical handles to steady herself. White lances of pain were smasming through her chest with every breath, making tears of pain leak out between her closed eyelids. Her legs had also turned to jelly again, barely allowing her to stand, let alone walk anywhere.

_Damnit…damn them! What have they done to me? Sure I was never the most athletic person around, but I do remember being able to run 25 feet without feeling like I was going to die…_ _Aargh I've got to get out of this hallway!_

_Through sheer force of will, she managed to tug a little on one of the doors. It moved slightly inwards. Mentally sighing with relief, she leaned back, allowing her body weight to do the work her exhausted muscles would not. The door opened just enough for her to swing through the opening and collapse onto the floor._

_Shouldn't have done that._

_Pain. Pain as she never new existed. Everywhere. Enveloping, consuming. It was like her entire nervous system was telling her that she was being bathed in pure agony. Blood filled her mouth and nose as her body went into uncontrollable convulsions, expressing the terrible sensations her voice no longer could. Choking, she could feel herself drifting away, her blurred vision slipping from a red haze to all encompassing black. As she was about to completely drift away, someone….a man, gently laid hands on her and slowly turned her over, allowing her tears to spill back into her hair. She lifted herself out of the enshrouding darkness long enough to open her eyes to see…_

_There, standing above her, was a face she recognized as the one belonging to the scientist who gave her the knife earlier. Their eyes met again, and she noticed he appeared much older than she had earlier thought. A cross swam into her vision, connected by a chain of rosary beads to his neck. As he grabbed it and began making motions of the cross over her, she lost her will to stay conscious. Drifting away into sweet oblivion, she heard him speak, the kind words echoing through her._

"_Sleep my child. Sleep, and be at peace. You are in good hands now. We will take care of you…In nomine Patris et fillii et Spirituss…sSanc…ti…."_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Anathema of Control.

-One Year Later-

"Removing half her brain was the easy part. Getting the replacement parts properly interfaced with what we left in was a whole other matter entirely."

"Hmm…well I don't know exactly what you did or how it works, but the tests speak for themselves. I'm completely sold on her abilities."

"I see. Do remember that this is only a prototype of the newest model, and if you were to wait just a few more months, we could have another model ready that has less glitches in it…"

"No, it can't be done. I have need of her services immediately. This can't wait."

"Ahh I see. If I may inquire as to the nature of her upcoming tasks…"

"I would avoid such questions if I were you. That kind of curiosity is unwise to harbor, especially in your line of work, I would think."

"Right, right, you are entirely correct, sir. But if we had say, a more specific understanding of what she would be doing, we can tweak their specifications to make her-"

"That will not be necessary. Her raw form suits my needs perfectly."

"Very well. How soon do you need her? We would like to have a few more weeks to try to purge her system of the remaining glitches. Some of them are fairly severe. Being able to override certain command sequences is an almost fatal problem."

"I need her by the end of this week. Do what you can. My boss has his own reasons as to why he needs her so soon, but I believe she is….expendable."

"I see. Well we'll get to work then. If you were to come back in a few months, there will be a glitch free model that we are putting into mass production. They'll be cheaper, more reliable, and will outperform this prototype."

"I will inform my boss in case we ever need your services again. Thank you for your time, Mr. Gibson. I shall be contacting you sometime tomorrow to set the specifics for when I'll be picking her up.

"Very well. Good day, Sir"

The man started to turn away, but paused. He turned back. "By the way, out of curiosity, does she have a name? Are they given names?

Mr. Gibson smiled slightly. "Yes, they all retain their birth names, if they had them when they came in. Otherwise, we name them."

"Well then, what is her name?

"Her name is Maya."

The man paused, thinking. After a moment he stirred, shook his head a little, and said, "Ah. Very well, goodbye."

"Goodbye, sir."

Mr. Gibson watched as the other man walked out to the luxurious black car and got inside. As the car departed, he turned back and returned to the inside of the cathedral. He and his team had a lot of work to do before the girl was even close to being finished. Sending a quick prayer to the Lord for strength, he mentally prepared himself for a week of sleepless nights and endless days. These glitches weren't going to purge themselves.

The man who had gotten into the car and drove away forced himself to sit upright and focus. He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the time: 12:49. His slick black car sped along the densely packed rush hour streets of downtown L.A.

Lunch was for some reason a major thing here, something that the man found unfathomable. How all these people had the luxury of waiting around in traffic, eating a meal, then waiting in traffic again to get back to their offices was beyond him. Taking two hours or more to have lunch was beyond him. Such waste.

While the driver continued to weave in-between minute gaps in traffic, the man, known currently as Sa'eed sent a quick message to his boss informing him of the girl's results in the tests and her known glitches, along with a request to confirm the pickup date. He tried to wait patiently for a response, but his fingers and feet betrayed him, tapping on the floor and his knees in quick, impatient spurts.

Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, his boss sent him back the confirmation for the pickup date. Everything was moving according to their original plan.

Sa'eed sighed and sat back in his seat, allowing his mind to relax and the memories of the tests wash over him. Over the course of his life, he had seen humanity at its worst. He'd been a part of humanity at its worst more than once. Yet even he was shaken by what he had observed. She would certainly be capable of performing the tasks his boss needed her for, but would she listen? Those glitches the project manager was mentioning sounded serious, yet his boss would book no delays. Would his boss's impatience inadvertently force him to have to possibly restrain this girl? A chill descended down his spine at the thought. He had never known how much a human body could suffer without dying before today, and his mind shrank away from the prospect of being put in the same situation as the girl's targets were earlier.

_I sure hope Hayes knows what he's getting into. If the girl snaps somehow and turns against us, we stand no chance of winning any kind of engagement with her. Eventually she'll have us all dead, one way or another._

…

**-Awaken-**

Her eyes flew open. Images flooded through her retinas and were instantaneously processed by her brain.

**-Stand-**

She immediately got up off the table and stood, barefoot, on the stone floor. Before her stood a man in his early 30s: tall, medium build, blonde, with an air about him that gave away the fact that he was important. Or at least felt important.

He smiled at her. "Hello, Maya."

"Hello."

She watched him glance over to where a monitor displayed a staggering array of vital signs. Heart rate, pulse, blood chemical composition, brain activity, amounts of pressure exerted on various joints, and a full thermal image of what looked like a young woman's body, among others. Her vital signs, she realized. Puzzled, she checked her body for any external monitors and found none.

The man watched her as she checked her body, a smile still lighting his features. After about five seconds of checking, she stopped and looked at him with an expression that demanded an answer.

"Your vitals are being tracked by wireless sensors imbedded throughout your body. If I were you, I wouldn't try to pull them out. The last time someone tried that, we spent a month attempting to salvage what was left of his body. He only managed to find one anyways. You are much stronger than you think, and even though your body has been modified to compensate, it still can take only so much abuse."

She stared at him. He began to sweat a little.

**-Calm down-**

All of a sudden a wave of calm washed over her. She could remember everything, but suddenly she wasn't on the verge of disemboweling the man who just told her that he and others had imbedded monitoring devices in her and had altered her body without her consent. There also was the fact that she didn't really know where she was, or _who_ she was for that matter. So many questions that needed answers…

"You must have a lot of questions."

She nodded.

"You aren't getting any answers. You don't need any."

She lunged at him. The movement was so fast that the world around her became a blur.

**-Stop-**

She stopped. More accurately, she staggered a full 20 paces past him before she could come to a complete halt. She turned to face him, complete surprise warring with panic and anger for control of her face.

The smile returned to the man's face. She longed to put her fist through it.

"Neat, isn't it? No I won't tell you what it is. Needless to say, you can't fight it and I control it. You do what I want, whenever I want. No excuses, no disobedience."

Her mouth fell open as she stared at him in pure disbelief. Nobody could completely control another human. Taking away another living, breathing person's free will and making that person submit to their own was just so…monstrous.

The man's smile faded to be replaced by simple neutrality. "Shall I demonstrate?"

He didn't have to do anything. He just stood there. But there it came, just like all the previous commands.

**-Touch the ceiling-**

She looked up. The arched stone ceiling was over 30 meters off the ground. _No way I can jump that high…_Her body crouched down, tensing the muscles in her calves, and jumped. She flew through the air, arm stretched upwards to a wooded support beam 20 meters up. She used it to vault up the rest of the way. Her hand made complete contact with the ceiling. She swung her feet up to come into contact with the ceiling to brace against the impact, and pushed off, careening towards the floor.

The cold, unforgiving, _stone_ floor.

The floor that was going to break every bone in her body, if she was any judge of how fast she was moving. Mentally she braced for impact. Her body seemed to be doing it's own thing.

She watched in amazement as her body landed, doing a foreword roll to mitigate the force of the impact. Somehow she knew the forces placed on her body was about four times the amount normally needed to shatter the bones in her legs…if they were normal legs…she had no idea what they were anymore. What _she_ was anymore.

A mutant?

Some kind of super-human?

Half-robot?

_Whatever I am, I'm not fully human anymore. And why do I hear clapping?_

She straightened and turned around. The man was still there, clapping his hands in applause.

_Oh. Right._

She tried to rush him again, fingers extended, attempting to find his delicate little throat and crush it.

-**Stop-**

Her body lurched to a halt.

-**You don't have control over your body. **_**I do.**__**I**_** decide what you can and cannot do. **_**I**_** am the master, you are the slave. And when the slave disobeys, the slave shall be punished-**

She glared at him. Pure hate lanced from her eyes and bored into his skull, trying desperately to cook his brain from the inside out. She didn't know who she was. She didn't know where she was. All she knew was that she couldn't leave, couldn't escape, and had to do whatever this man told her to do. Including…

**-Take off your clothes-**

Her eyes widened in shock as her fingers pulled off the white medical shift she had been wearing. It fell to the floor, and she stood there, naked, facing this man with no way to resist him.

**-Walk over to me. Do not attempt to kill or resist me in any way. Do not try to run-**

She walked over to him, her mind still screaming in protest at every step she took. She got within a foot of him and stopped, looking slightly up at him. For some absurd reason, she wished he was shorter.

He looked back with a hunger, his eyes skittering up and down her body with ill concealed delight. He held up a hand and slowly brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. She could actually hear his elevated heart rate, hear his breathing become faster. His hand went from her hair to her breast, cupping it. His thumb ran back and forth along the nipple. She could feel slight stirrings of arousal, but denied them. He wasn't getting anything out of this.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. He sensed her resistance.

**-Enjoy this-**

Her nipple stiffened. Her heart rate and breathing sped up to match his. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life. Never felt so frustrated. Her mind was trying with all it's might to kill this man who stood in front of her and so arrogantly molested her, and yet she couldn't do it. Her body wouldn't listen to her. And to make matters worse, her body was actually _enjoying this_.

_Can I enjoy something like this even though it's being forced upon me by a man I hate? I wonder if this is what rape victims go through…_she gave herself a mental shake. _No, this isn't what rape feels like. Rape victims can struggle. I can't._

A tear started to roll down her cheek. He wiped it away with a thumb, and moved in closer, placing his lips next to her ear.

"You won't remember a thing. I promise you that. Your buyer is coming to pick you up today, so I'm doing a final functions check. I have to see if you are working properly, and that means I have to check _everything. Especially this._"

She wanted to scream at him. Flay him alive. Force him to endure an eternity of suffering. All she did was moan softly. One of his hands was stroking her hair while the other moved from her breast down even lower. Unwillingly she gasped softly as his fingers began to move: up and down, in and out. Teasing her. She felt herself become wet, felt the desire for him to go further, _deeper._ She moaned again.

His lips found hers, and she found herself responding to him with an abandon that sickened her. He was leading her down to the floor, which suddenly was covered by sheets from somewhere…her bed.

He broke off the kiss, his lips finding their way back to her ear. "You won't remember a thing." Warm and soft, his words were meant to comfort. But whether they were meant to comfort him or her, she didn't know. All she knew was that she was completely powerless. Powerless to do anything, except cry.

And wait.

She awoke at the sound of approaching footsteps. _Two men, one obviously a man of high standing, the other…_Nervous was the word that came to mind. Her fingers flexed, instinctively wishing for a weapon. She had already searched the small room she had been taken to, and there wasn't anything well suited to the task.

_I could brain them with the sink if it wasn't so well attached to the wall…_

_You never know, they could be good people trying to help you. _A part of her said. She almost laughed at the notion. Ever since she had woken up in this room, something had changed inside her. The older mental memory blocks the scientists had put in place were weakening. Slowly, the memories of what had been happening to her were coming back in chronological order. She now knew what she was and what she was trained to do.

She was a slave, trained and biologically enhanced to aid her in her intended role: an assassin. A trained killer who had both extensive mental conditioning and…something else. She didn't know what it was yet, but she did remember her body acting and doing things against her will, and the realization was driving her mad.

The footsteps stopped at her door. A key was inserted, protesting noisily as it was turned in the lock.

**-Sit on the bed and don't move-**

The nervous man in the labcoat went in first. He followed, doing a peripheral sweep before closing the solid oak door behind him. The girl was sitting with her arms hugging her legs to her chest in a ball on a cot set against the side of the wall. Her attire was basic but tasteful: blue jeans, white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and sneakers. The blouse enhanced the effect of her pale blond hair and alabaster skin, making her appear somewhat ethereal. But what truly set off the effect were her eyes. Pale green, calculating, wary, and cold. The eyes of a hunter.

_Her appearance is that of someone who has great natural beauty and poise…But her body language is saying she's still a child. This program obviously doesn't place much emphasis on anything but the bare necessities her occupation requires... She truly is beautiful though._

There were two chairs placed in the center of the room facing the cot. The scientist, a sweaty, nervous man who had introduced himself as Edgard Morales, went and sat down in one of them, indicating that he should do the same. He sat, noticing how the girl constantly tracked his movements. His gaze met hers again, and he detected an undercurrent of uncertain hope in her expression.

He cleared his throat softly. "Hello Maya."

"Hello." Her tone was feathery soft, luring him in.

"My name is Mr. Hayes." He paused, wondering how much she truly knew about what had happened to her. He was told there was a specific procedure he had to follow in this meeting, and that he could only ask certain questions and give out so much information. Curiosity got the better of him, though. "Do you know why I'm here, Maya?"

Morales shot a shocked glance his direction. This was definitely a question outside the set boundaries.

The girl noticed the scientist's reaction, and was encouraged. She relaxed her grip on her calves, and some of the tension in her bled away.

"You're here to take me away from this place. You bought me, and I'm to start working for you."

Morales was wide-eyed with shock. She wasn't supposed to know any of this so early in the process. Granted, she was a next-gen prototype, but this was outside of what she was allowed to know.

Mr. Hayes continued. "Yes. Maya, do you know what you're job is while working for me?"

She hesitated, unsure quite how to respond. She glanced at the scientist, then him, then back at the scientist again. The pause lasted only for a few seconds, then she replied. "Killing people."

He paused for a second, admiring her composure. She looked to be anywhere from 15 to 18, but looks were deceiving. Her body's aging process was slowed significantly, increasing her longevity and her usefulness. As he remembered, her dossier said she was actually 22.

He gave himself a mental shake. As fascinating as this process she went through was, he had to focus on the girl curled up on the cot in front of him. The scientist sweating next to him and clutching faintly at the cross around his neck was. It was still a mystery to him as to why the Church was behind this program, but this didn't seem like the right time to ask. _Obviously this little meeting isn't going exactly to plan. This man seems to have had a series of nasty shocks thanks to this girl. She knows far more than she should._

He allowed himself a small smile. _Good._

"Exactly. That and much more, if you're willing."

She paused again to think. Either that, or was simply enjoying watching Morales sweat. Her responses were obviously causing him to panic, and his rejection of set procedures wasn't helping. This question was particularly scary. None of the others had been allowed to refuse to work for their buyer. And how much more does she know? How much control over herself does she actually have?

_What if she refused to work for him? We haven't planned for this type of scenario. What if she refused to work for anyone? All the work they had put into her would be wasted…The cost would be enormous. So much waste all because this man wanted to give her a choice…_

Morales couldn't take it any longer.

-**Accept the offer-**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Additional Testing Will Be Required.

-Hayes-

They were in the back of his personal vehicle, being driven home. Normally, he refused to use a personal driver, but today was a special case. The girl demanded his undivided attention.

It was fine with him really. She was interesting.

He was familiar with the process now. The scientists had given him a basic explanation of what had happened to her to get her to where she was now. Biological enhancements, mechanical implants, extensive mental conditioning…the most torturous training program he had ever heard of…and it went on for _years_. They also explained how to give her commands that overrode her control of her body, giving him the most reliable "employee" known to man. He suppressed a shudder, thinking about how he would feel in her position.

_I wonder if the scientists know they've created a time bomb. They abduct her at an early age, tortured her, operated on her against her will, made the perfect slave that just so happens to have a wild talent for killing, and then made her forget it all happened to her. Especially since she seems to be remembering far more than she should. What happens when the barriers that are supposed to keep that information from her completely fail?_

The whole time he had been pondering her situation and the vengeful slaughter of all those scientists, Maya had been sitting across from him, staring out of the tinted windows with a palpable hunger. She could've killed him and escaped into the world if she wanted to. He hadn't put any restraints on her to stop her from killing him. _Curious._

"When was the last time you saw the world?"

She tore her gaze away from the window and looked at him, surprised. "I don't remember."

"But you don't seem intimidated by it all…" he mused, half to himself.

She didn't really know how to respond. She eyed him skeptically. "Yes…was that a question or a statement?"

_Awfully direct for someone trained to be a slave._ _Interesting._ "Sort of both. Why do you not remember?"

Their eyes met. Hers acted as a vice, trapping his within green steel prisms. When she spoke, the steel was in her voice as well. "Those scientists don't want me to remember anything."

His eyes, still trapped inside hers, widened with surprise. He didn't truly know how much she knew about what happened to her, but this was definitely crossing a line. She knew it to, and was gauging his reaction, looking for something. Her eyes had lost the steely edge, and instead had picked up a wild, unstable look he didn't like.

The atmosphere in the car suddenly was charged. The change set his teeth on edge. _I still haven't laid down any safeguards for myself._ He didn't know what she was looking for, but he had to take a stab at diffusing the situation before it became life-threatening.

"Please relax. I'm not going to send you back to them, get rid of you, or harm you in any way simply because you are aware of what they've done to you." She seemed to relax a little, and the tension that had been building up in her began to recede.

She took a breath. "Ok."

"Do you mind if I keep asking you questions?"

"…no."

"Ok. In general, what _do _you remember?"

She paused, collecting her thoughts. He watched her fists clench and unclench at whatever she was reliving. Her eyes, normally so sharp and vibrant, dulled and went out of focus as her sight turned inward. Her face was an unguarded reflection of her thoughts, and he watched as it was transformed by fear, anger, and pain. A wave of pity surged within him. He felt an overwhelming desire to comfort this girl that he had unwittingly rescued. He hadn't meant to rescue her, he just needed her special abilities, nothing more. That was before. Now thanks to his curiosity, he was growing attached to her despite himself.

After a moment her eyes refocused and looked into his. "I remember a lot of things. Much of it is of the…of _them_ making me do things. Things I didn't want to do. I remember bit's and pieces…almost never the whole picture. I remember part of when I had woken up too early, but I don't remember exactly what happened. I think I killed them all. I was sitting on a bed with stained sheets in the middle of a red lake. I remember walking down hallways, searching for someone. I remember killing solders, innocents, and animals, all because _they_ told me to. I remember killing them with guns, knives and many other things. My bare hands…red hands…the blood of others trickling down my arms. I remember so much, so many different things, but none of them are complete, and I keep remembering more each day. That's what I remember."

Hayes was a little blown away by all of this. If he smoked, he would've needed a cigarette right about now. He didn't smoke. Nasty habit. He wanted a drink, but couldn't quite remember how to move his arms, so he dropped the idea. According to the file, she was 22. According to his eyes, she was 17. Never in his 43 years of life had a 17 year old ever done this to him.

He blinked. Again. And again. She was still watching his every move. The tension had returned, charging the air in the all-of-a-sudden too small space they sat in.

"You don't believe me." Her tone had that unhealthy edge to it.

He didn't like where this was going. His brain found his tongue just in time to say, "No, no I believe y-"

**-stop-**

His eyes popped open with shock. His heart hammered in his chest, pumping life-giving blood through arteries and veins still thankfully intact.

The girl was frozen, practically on top of him, the outstretched fingers of her right hand almost touching his carotid artery. Her movements had been so fast they were blurred, almost inhuman. If he had been a fraction of a second slower, he would be in a bloody pool on the floor, dying.

She wasn't balanced though, and she fell foreword into him, burying her face into his chest. Numbly he wrapped his arms around her trembling form, his body taking charge until his brain could catch up.

"Now you believe me." Her voice was choked and muffled his suit.

All he could manage at that point was, "Yes, I do." He held her tighter, feeling that he had just somehow gotten far more than he'd bargained for.

A moment frozen in time: stretched out so that it lasts for hours, for days, becomes timeless. This is how they spent that moment. This is one of those moments that truly changes people from the inside out. This heart to heart understanding that's so rare, most people only experience it a handful of times in their lives, if they're lucky.

This should've changed him. Should've made him a better, kinder, more righteous person. Someone who see what happened to this girl and understand that it is entirely unnecessary and evil, and should be put to an end.

It didn't. He wasn't that type of person. He still cared, but within his own limitations.

Slowly, he eased her up off of him, and placed her gently on the seat next to him. Her eyes were red and swollen, but her face was dry. Somehow he had missed her hand moving to wipe the tears off her face. _She's faster than before. She could've killed me if she had wanted to. Time to put in some boundaries…_

**-You will never attempt to kill me or injure me or harm any enterprise or endeavor of mine unless expressly ordered to do so by myself, and myself only-**

**-You will take orders from me, and only me. You will not perform any action that would or could possibly be detrimental to me-**

He smiled, a quirk in his thoughts sparking the expression.

-**And your personal opinion of me is entirely your own to make. Love me or hate me, it's up to you, and what you do on your spare time is entirely up to you within these limitations-**

At this statement, she stopped glaring at him. Her expression, previously twisted in wordless rage from the previous orders, now was…understanding. She saw the compromise he was giving her, the level of control balanced out by more freedom than she could've imagined.

The smile on his face widened, touching his eyes.

"Regardless of your intended purpose, you are still a person, and should be treated as such. I expect you do things that you will not like, and certainly things that are unethical, amoral, and most likely, against your will. The least I can give you is some basic human rights." he said.

She nodded, then resumed looking out the window. She didn't move back to the other side of the car.

"She would've stopped even if the command wasn't given. She wouldn't kill the only human being who's shown her a shred of compassion in 10 years."

"Oh? What about the priest who slipped her a knife when she woke up prematurely?"

"Another test. Lab rats are expendable. I wanted to know how she would respond under extreme stress before the system was fully operational, and before any mental conditioning."

"But the damage we caused her-"

"Was unfortunate yes. However, she is a prototype, meant to be tested so the others after her can be improved. The mental barriers shouldn't allow her to access that memory anyways."

"She's never been the same after that. We pushed her too far with that one. Her brain seems to have…rewired itself in such a way that the barriers aren't holding. Things are slipping through, and she's remembering things that would've resulted in termination in any previous model."

"Remember, she is a _prototype_. Also, she was the only one to survive the process."

"You had others?"

"Their minds didn't survive. Hers was the only one strong enough."

"How many 'others' were there exactly?"

"One hundred and three. We've modified our training techniques to up the survival rate."

"I should hope so. IMRAM does not have unlimited resources that we can throw into research and development. Let us hope the next group will come through the regimen without catastrophic damage."

"We're expecting them to. Meanwhile, we are still collecting vast amounts of data off of Maya."

"Continue to observe her then. Keep me updated on her progress."

"Of course."

"God be with you, Mr. Gibson."

"And you, Father."


End file.
